Without You
by ChloeHeidrich1228
Summary: Rema survived the Games, but now, she's forced to face the Victory Tour, an increasingly drunk Haymitch, and problems that might tear her relationship apart for good. Sequel to If I Die Young.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so this is the second book to my Hunger Games fic. I highly recommend you read the first before you read this one, as you will be confused. This one, I've decided to dedicate to my air-headed blonde, who gave me the best review ever on _If I Die Young. _Like always, reviews and comments are greatly welcome!**

Rema stood onstage, just barely listening to the mayor from District 6 give his speech. She was too busy staring at the young girl sitting on the left side of the platform in front of the stage. The girl was probably no older than nine, her hair and eyes the color of liquid chocolate. In no way did she resemble her brother, but the quiet determination evident in her demeanor, which was clearly Chelmot. The girl was alone; her parents had died before her brother. Rema couldn't help but feel badly for the girl who would live in a district home until she was eighteen. She had to tear her eyes from the small girl when the mayor had finished his speech. She gave the Capitol mandated speech, almost rushing so that she could say the personal part. When the scripted part was over, she took a deep breath and attempted to clear the lump that formed in her throat.

"I didn't know Chelmot very well," she began, looking back to the girl. "But what I did know of him, I was amazed. It baffled me how one person could be so caring that he would risk his life for complete strangers. And, even though I didn't know him for very long, I'm not ashamed to call him my friend, because in my mind, Chelmot proved his friendship to me day one. He was always there for everyone in our group, no matter what the situation. I only wish that I could've been there for him when he needed me the most. I'm sorry about your losses, and I can't exactly tell you that I know how you feel, because I don't, but I'll be the first to admit that I sympathize with you. Chelmot was possibly the best ally I could have found in that arena and I owe him my life. As a token of my thanks to him, I'd like to give his sister a small portion of my winnings to help her through the next few years. I know it's not much, but…" Chelmot's sister, who had rushed forward to hug her, cut her off. Rema's breath caught shakily in her throat.

"Thank you," Chelmot's sister said. "For everything you did for my brother." The girl walked back to her seat and Rema, having nothing else to say to the crowd, waved, thanked them, and walked off stage and right into Haymitch's arms.

"You did beautifully," he whispered into her ear as he rubbed her back.

She shook her head and sighed. "I wish I could've done more, though."

"I know," Haymitch led her into the District 6 Justice Building, where the banquet would be held.

The District 6 banquet passed quickly and soon they were back on the train again. Rema didn't worry about making another personal speech until she got to District 1, where she knew she would have issues expressing her feelings. The first night of their two-night trip to District 1, Rema fell asleep on the couch.

She was walking through the woods when suddenly, one of the venomous dogs from the arena crossed the path in front of her. It looked in her direction, but kept walking, as if it had something better to do than chew her to pieces. Rema followed it curiously and found that it led her to a very familiar cliff and a cave. Sitting in the cave were Kelid and Metyse, who looked at her with disgust.

"You let us die," Kelid accused.

"No," Rema protested.

"You did nothing to help us," Metyse pointed out.

"That's not true! I didn't know what to do for you," Rema whispered.

"You let us down." Metelle appeared, looking at Rema sadly.

"You promised my dad that you would keep me safe," Chirler told her, his voice full of anger.

"You could've done something to save me," Chelmot said from behind her. His wound was still open.

Rema's friends moved forward, shooting accusations at her and blaming her for their deaths. Rema felt herself falling to her knees as they got within feet of her. "You deserved to die, not me. I had a sister to take care of," Chelmot said angrily.

"I know, and I'm sorry," Rema choked out.

"We didn't deserve to die," Chirler repeated. Rema looked up and saw sadness in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't want it to end like it did." Rema felt like she could only apologize and make excuses.

"Rem!" Rema looked around frantically for the source of the new voice. The scene around her changed as she slowly woke up. Rema awoke in Haymitch's arms. It was early morning and the sun was just coming through the window. Sometime during the night, Haymitch must have brought her to her room, because that was where they were now, cuddled together. Haymitch was still asleep, which confused Rema. She had not imagined Haymitch's voice. He pulled her closer and Rema realized why she had woken up: Haymitch, too, was having a nightmare, one that centered on her.

She buried her head in Haymitch's chest and allowed him to draw her closer. She fell back asleep, but her nightmare did not come back. Instead, she was sitting on a sandy coast, staring out at the rolling ocean. The wind blew softly, bringing the slight scent of salt and iodine. In the distance, a bird squawked lightly. She felt someone brush against her and turned to see Haymitch sitting beside her in the sand, the wind blowing his loose-fitting clothes gently. Everything looked so surreal and perfect; she never wanted to wake up. The sun was just beginning to dip below the water, turning both the sea and the sky multiple shades of orange, pink, purple, and dusk blue.

When Rema awoke again that morning, she was placid. Still wrapped in Haymitch's arms and unable to move very far, she stared out the window for a few minutes before attempting to slide out from his grip. His arms tightened around her. "I don't think so," he breathed. She sighed and allowed herself to curl into his chest again. After the obviously horrible dream he had had last night, she didn't want to deny him. "How did you sleep last night?" he asked softly.

"Before or after I woke up here?" she rebutted.

"Both."

"Before was horrible. After…wasn't." He said nothing, prompting her to continue. "I think having you here helped," she admitted, mumbling into his chest.

"Glad one of us slept well," he sighed and kissed her forehead. "I don't want to get up."

Rema mentally went through the day's schedule in her head. "We don't necessarily have to. Today's just a day of travel."

She felt Haymitch smile slightly. "Thank God. What do you want to do today?"

"Eat, sleep, mope a bit, eat some more," Rema mumbled.

"I like the way you think. Shall we get up?" Rema nodded into his chest, but neither of them moved. "So, what did you dream about?"

Rema thought about which dream to tell him about: the nightmare, or the beach. "I was back in the arena, and I saw _them_."

Haymitch pulled her tighter. "And?"

"They all blamed me for their deaths."

He kissed her forehead. "None of their deaths were your fault."

"Then why does it feel like they were?" Rema was near tears.

"You cared about them. Even Chelmot and Metelle, even though you knew them for less than two weeks."

She smiled slightly. It was nice to have Haymitch around, even though he had started drinking again. "So, what did you dream about?"

His face clouded over and he was silent for a few seconds. "The Capitol made your life hell," he said simply. After he didn't continue, Rema dropped the subject. "So, what do you want to do now?" he asked after a few minutes' silence.

"Breakfast!" Elaina said ebulliently, knocking on the door. "I've tried waking Haymitch, but he refuses to answer!" she complained, causing Haymitch to laugh.

"I'll get him, Elaina, don't worry," Rema managed to say, holding back laughter.

Rema squirmed out of Haymitch's grasp and stood. She was still in what she had been wearing the previous day. She sighed. "It's all wrinkled," she complained to Haymitch. "Elaina would kill me."

"Then change," Haymitch said simply. As if it were that simple.

"Leave and I will."

"I'm comfortable."

"Then I'm not changing."

"Then go face Elaina's wrath."

Rema sighed, realizing the efficacy of his argument. "I hate you so much," she told him angrily, pulling open one of her drawers. She pulled out a sleeveless green shirt and a pair of loose fitting pants. She sighed and pulled off her shirt. "I hate you _so_ much," she repeated, pulling the sleeveless one over her head. She hopped around frantically, pulling on the loose pants. "I still really hate you," she said pointedly.

"Keep going, gorgeous," Haymitch said, wiggling an eyebrow. Rema threw a shoe at him. "Hey! Watch where you throw those things!"

"I hate you so freaking much," she told him, slipping on a pair of socks before walking to retrieve her shoe.

He laughed maniacally and pulled her back onto the bed. She shrieked as she fell, making him laugh harder. Elaina burst through the door, and upon seeing Rema lying on top of Haymitch, both of them laughing so hard they were beginning to cry, shook her head and walked back out. Once the door clicked shut, Rema and Haymitch began to laugh even harder.

"Can't… breathe," Rema gasped, holding her sides.

Once they regained composure, Haymitch stood and helped Rema up. They walked to the dining room and sat down across from each other. Elaina coughed. "So, how did everyone sleep?" she asked timidly.

"Alright," Haymitch lied. Rema just nodded and grabbed a raspberry muffin.

"That's good." Elaina settled into an awkward silence. "Did you ever go to your room last night, young man?" she asked, bringing out a tone of voice Rema had never heard her use before. It reminded Rema that even though she and Haymitch had both been through many trials that forced them to grow up quickly, they were still the children in this situation.

"Yes, for a little while," he replied. "But when I couldn't sleep, I went for a walk. Rema was asleep on the couch, so I took her to her room," he explained defensively. Elaina's expression made it clear that she didn't believe him, but she dropped the subject.


	2. Chapter 2

The next hour and a half after breakfast, Rema was lectured by Elaina on 'why it was not a good thing to act desperate.' Truthfully, Rema only half listened to her escort's rant. Rema's parents had drilled a very simple-minded philosophy into her head at a very young age: disparity led to sex, which led to getting pregnant, which would surely lead to death. Even though Rema knew that this was not the case, she still followed the philosophy. Disparity was _not_ needing someone to hold on to when life sucks. Admittedly, Rema probably should have paid more attention—Elaina was only trying to help her—but to be quite honest, Rema didn't care about Elaina's opinions.

When the lecture was over, Rema decided to walk around the train. There was nothing else to do, and sleep wasn't an option. She wandered the cars of the train for a half hour before finally coming to the last car. It was long, with no separate rooms, and full of sunlight coming in from the multitude of windows. It was there, in the back of the car, where she saw Haymitch. He had a window cracked open and was staring out it pensively. The sun's rays fell gracefully across his face and a light breeze tousled his hair. He looked more peaceful than Rema had ever seen him.

The train car jolted and stopped suddenly, throwing Rema off balance. She grabbed the doorframe to catch herself. She noticed that Haymitch had snapped out of his reflective trance and was staring at her. "Hey," she said sheepishly. Haymitch just smiled at her. There was a strange emotion in his eyes that Rema couldn't quite place. "Elaina stopped lecturing me."

"I see that," he chuckled. "Was her lecture interesting?"

Rema snorted. "Oh, enthralling. I've always wanted to know the reason why a lady should not act desperate."

"That's what it was about?" Haymitch chuckled. "That woman…" he didn't finish his sentence, but Rema knew what he was thinking. That woman would be the reason they both went crazy.

Elaina burst through the door at that exact moment, her hair disheveled. "The train is having some issues," she announced.

"We noticed," Rema told her, chuckling softly. "How long will we be delayed?"

"It'll take them a few hours to get the part to fix it, and then another to actually perform the repair, so…" she sighed. "Too long. We may need to postpone the District 1 leg of the tour."

Rema and Haymitch exchanged glances. "What does that mean for me?" Rema asked Elaina.

"You're free to do whatever you want for the next few hours," she sighed again. "Don't go far." Rema nodded and grabbed Haymitch's hand. They exited the car and walked down the hallway to the door of the train. "Remember what we talked about!" she yelled after them.

Rema chortled as she jumped off the train. "So, what do you want to do?" she asked Haymitch, who stood watching Rema. "What?" She felt her head fall slightly to one side.

"Nothing," he shook his head lightly and chuckled to himself. "What do I want to do?" He thought for a second. "Come on." He grabbed her hand and interlaced their fingers, leading her through the woods near the train. They walked until they reached a clearing beside a small brook. Haymitch sat down on a rock and Rema sat beside him, their hands still together. She was silent, staring blankly into the forest. "What's wrong?" he asked, releasing her hand to brush a strand of hair from her eyes.

"I can't help but to think that somewhere in that forest are the herbs to heal my mother," she whispered, scanning the closest vegetation. Haymitch sighed. Her mother had recently fallen extremely ill. Her lungs were blackened and failing because she had been breathing the coal dust and smoke for so long.

"Rema," Haymitch's voice was soft and sympathetic, "I know you want to cure your mom, but I don't think it's going to happen." Rema turned to look at him. "You can't just heal lungs with plants and a whim." Her eyes grew wide and began to water before she stood and walked slightly away. "Rema, don't be like that. It's unrealistic to hope to find a magical herb to heal your mother's lungs."

She shut her eyes. "Why don't you care?" she asked, shaking her head.

"I do care! I just don't think you should get your hopes up."

She spun on him. "You're always like this anymore."

"Like what?" His tone was biting.

"An insensitive ass!" she spat. "You've been a jerk ever since…" She had wanted to say 'since the end of the Games', but her words had caught in her throat.

"Maybe you've just been too emotional." He reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a small flask. He uncorked it and took a long drink of its contents.

She eyed his flask angrily. "Really? You bring that everywhere now?" He shrugged. "You are impossible!" Rema stormed back to the train, where she sat alone in her room for the rest of the trip.

That night, Rema dreamt that she was on a beach again, but this time, something was wrong. Instead of the wind being gentle, it was wildly whipping her hair. The sun was high in the sky, casting a harsh glare across half of the landscape. Instead of salt and brine on the air, there were chemicals and alcohol. Rema turned frantically, attempting to find what had caused her precious beach to sour and go bad. He was sitting nearby, on a rock that jutted out into the ocean. Haymitch was surrounded by empty bottles. It angered her seeing him like that, but it made her angrier that he was disrupting what had once been a comforting place. She watched as he tipped back bottle after bottle, until finally, he ran out of alcohol. Rema watched him stand and stagger forward. He lost his balance and tumbled into the ocean.

Rema shot out of bed, terrified. It took her a few seconds to realize that what she had just witnessed had been a dream. _I'm still on the train. We're going to be in District 1 soon. _She reminded herself. _Haymitch is not dead._

"Wake up!" Elaina called cheerily. "We're almost there."

"I don't want breakfast today, Elaina," Rema told her.

"Suit yourself." Rema heard her walk away.

Debating what to do, Rema sat on the edge of her bed. She knew that if she didn't confront Haymitch about his drinking, she would continue to watch him die in a drunken stupor every night. If she did confront him about his alcoholism, what new form would her nightmares take?


	3. Chapter 3

Rema stood on the District 1 stage, facing the families of her two closest friends. Kelid's father sat to her left, resolute in his chair, staring at her and smiling slightly. Kelid's father had always like Rema, and he was making it quite clear that he did not blame her for his son's tragic death. Kelid's older brother, a spitting image of Kelid with the same swarthy hair and calm eyes, sat on edge. He was still upset by his brother's death; however, Rema did not think that he blamed her. He blamed the Capitol. Metyse's family was to her right. Her father, alone at the table, smiled at her sadly but lovingly. He had always been kind to Rema; she was his third daughter—Metyse's sister had died when she was seven.

Rema took a deep breath. She had been silent between the Capitol's pre-approved speech and her personal one. "I…" She closed her eyes and steeled herself. "I can honestly say that I cared deeply about both Kelid and Metyse. They were my second family, and I'll miss them… so much." She turned to Xanpetra, Metyse's father. "Metyse was my best friend. We told each other everything; she was an amazing friend, and an even better person. She _will_ be greatly missed. And Kelid," she said, turning to Rhoen, Kelid's father, and Zeutus, his brother, "Kelid was awesome. He was a good guy, and an astounding friend. Even though he and I had our moments, I loved talking to him, and he always knew how to make me laugh. I'll miss both of them so much. My memories of them will always be with me, and I know they'll be with you all, too." She smiled half-heartedly. "I'm not really sure how to express my gratitude to both of them, but honestly, I probably wouldn't be alive right now if it weren't for both of them." Rema finished her speech and walked offstage.

She met Haymitch at the district dinner, where they sat together. It was loud in the justice building, so the two were free to talk. "Haymitch," she began, "we need to talk." Her voice was soft and still full of emotion from seeing the families of Kelid and Metyse.

"You miss them, don't you?" he asked, sipping his wine.

"Of course, why…" she trailed off, realizing what he was doing. He was going to say she was being over-emotional again.

"I wasn't going to call you over-emotional," he told her, reading her mind. "I was just going to say that I don't blame you."

Rema smiled slightly. "Thanks, Haymitch." She felt a few tears spill over her eyelashes.

"Don't cry." He brushed her face off with his thumb. "Please." A servant brought him another glass of wine.

Later that night, they were sitting in the train's living room. Rema was on the couch, staring at a picture of Kelid, Metyse, and herself two summers ago, at a lake near Rema's house. It was here that she let her guard down and the tears finally started to flow. Haymitch watched her cry for a half an hour before he coughed loudly. She looked up sharply. He was sitting on the chair opposite her, a bottle in his hand. "You're doing it again," he said, a slight hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Doing what?" Immediately, the tears stopped as she prepared herself for yet another argument.

"The whole self-pitying, over-emotional…" He didn't finish his sentence, but waved his hand in her general direction and took a long drag on his bottle. Once it was empty, he sat it on the floor and pulled another from beside the chair.

Anger flared inside her. He had been extremely insensitive since she had come back from the games. Drinking had become a favorite pastime of his, and that frustrated Rema. "You need to stop drinking." Her voice was strong and demanding.

He snorted. "Okay. I'll stop when you stop crying about your hard-knock life. Guess what, Sweetheart, life is hard. People die every day. Plenty of people have seen their friends die in the Games. You're not the only one who has a sob story. Hell, I saw twice the amount of people die, and you don't see me crying every chance I get."

"No, but you drink. At least I vent my emotions healthily," she rebutted.

He snorted. "Somehow, I don't think your amount of _venting_ is healthy."

She sighed. "You have changed so much. Too much."

"I've changed? You used to be so happy and…" He searched for the right word.

"How are you even comparing me to before I went through that hell?" she asked. "And you changed too, don't just make this about me. You drink more, you're more solitary, and you're rude."

He laughed and took a drink. "I'm going to bed." He stood and walked off.

Rema slumped back into the couch, emotionally drained. An idea popped into her head. Maybe Haymitch would realize what drinking did to people if she managed to show him. But, how? She would have to begin drinking. It was crazy logic, but Rema knew that Haymitch cared about her.

Rema walked to the kitchen, where two Avoxes were washing the day's dishes. "Haymitch asked me to come get him another drink," she lied. They handed her two bottles and she walked back to her room.

She slept dreamlessly, which was odd. The next morning, she walked out of her room. She was determined not to drink, but merely to act as if she had. She had seen enough people drunk that it wasn't complicated. The morning was not the time to act, though. She would have to clue Elaina in on her plans so that the escort would not get angry. She saw an opportunity to speak to Elaina alone when they arrived at the Capitol. Haymitch had been pulled away by a peacekeeper—President Snow wanted to see him. Rema explained her entire plan to Elaina, who listened intently while they walked to the City Circle. When she was done, Elaina was silent, but when she spoke, Rema was grateful for the woman's support. 

"I think that's a great idea! It's exactly what that boy needs." She smiled at Rema.

The Capitol portion of the tour was exuberant. Caesar, a first in his career, conducted the interview-esque speech. There, he made her promise to sing at the banquet, which was immediately following the conclusion of the speech. The banquet food was abundant, but Rema didn't indulge in too much. Capitol food did not sit well with her. Halfway through the feast, President Snow stood, commanding the attention of the entire room. "I believe we have a song to hear," he said with false regality. Rema felt herself stand and move to the center of the room, where a small microphone was sitting on a chair. A man walked forward, carrying a guitar. Apparently, he knew the song, because he didn't even have to ask what key it was in, he just began to play. Rema took a deep breath and began to sing.

_If I die young, bury me in satin_

_Lay me down on a, bed of roses_

_Sink me in the river, at dawn_

_Send me away with the words of a love song_

_Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother_

_She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors_

_Well, life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no_

_Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby_

_The sharp knife of a short life, well_

_I've had just enough time_

_If I die young, bury me in satin_

_Lay me down on a bed of roses_

_Sink me in the river at dawn_

_Send me away with the words of a love song_

_The sharp knife of a short life, well_

_I've had just enough time_

_And I'll be wearing white, when I come into your kingdom_

_I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger,_

_I've never known the lovin' of a man_

_But it sure felt nice when he was holdin' my hand,_

_There's a boy here in town, says he'll love me forever,_

_Who would have thought forever could be severed by_

_The sharp knife of a short life, well,_

_I've had just enough time_

_So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls_

_What I never did is done_

_A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell 'em for a dollar_

_They're worth so much more after I'm a goner_

_And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'_

_Funny when you're dead how people start listenin'_

_If I die young, bury me in satin_

_Lay me down on a bed of roses_

_Sink me in the river at dawn_

_Send me away with the words of a love song_

_The ballad of a dove_

_Go with peace and love_

_Gather up your tears; keep 'em in your pocket_

_Save 'em for a time when you're really gonna need 'em_

_The sharp knife of a short life, well_

_I've had just enough time_

_So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls_

The hall erupted into applause. Rema looked around, shocked that so many enjoyed her song. She caught the eye of Haymitch, who was standing off to the side. He acknowledged her by lifting his glass of colorless liquid in her direction. Awkwardly, Rema walked away from the microphone and sat back down at her table.


	4. Chapter 4

That night on the train, Rema grabbed a bottle from her secret stash and emptied it halfway out the window. She looked at the bottle, finding a flaw in her plan: her breath did not smell like alcohol. She stared at the half-empty bottle, debating how to solve the issue that had just presented itself. There was only one way; she would have to drink. Not a lot, but enough to get her breath to smell like the drink. Rema pressed the cool bottle to her lips and shuddered at the taste of the alcohol. It was slightly bitter, but earthy all the same. Rema couldn't stand the taste, but she held out for the sake of the mission.

She took a deep breath and prepared herself for the ensuing spectacle. She would need to be just as insensitive as Haymitch had been to her. She would not allow herself to show emotion. Nothing would permit her to break this act. No matter what was said, no matter what he did, Rema could not allow herself to break.

After a minute of silently preparing herself, Rema opened her door and walked down the hall. Determining her walk was too pristine, she allowed herself to totter a bit. She plopped down on the couch beside Haymitch, who was looking out the window. She watched him as he caught the scent of alcohol. Confusion crossed his eyes as he looked at her. Rema was still carrying the half-empty bottle. To continue the show, she took another sip and managed to swallow it.

"Oh, no," Haymitch said sternly, "You are _not_ starting this."

"Really?" she said unemotionally. "And what are you going to do? Kill me? Go ahead. The Capitol already did."

She saw the emotion hit his eyes as Haymitch realized what she was saying: there was nothing left for her. Her mother was dying. Her best friends were already dead. Haymitch didn't care about her, so he was as good as dead. She didn't care about her own life if the people she cared about most weren't there to help her live it. "Why drink?"

"Why not?" she responded, taking another sip from the bottle she now clutched tightly in her hand. "It was there. It's easy to consume, and it's not like you can tell me not to," she pointed out.

He sighed. "No, maybe not." He thought for a second, devising a plan. "Have I ever told you about Maysilee Donner?" Rema shook her head, but realized the significance of this topic. Maysilee had died in the second Quarter Quell, and Rema knew she haunted Haymitch's dreams. "She saved my life in that arena. I honestly think I would've died at the hands of that Career. But she saved me, and we allied ourselves," he recounted. "We separated at the end of the arena. She got bored with my discovery. I should've been upset with her. I shouldn't have forgiven her, but I did. When I heard her scream, I reacted immediately. I saw her be attacked by those birds, and that's something I can't forget. Try as I may, I will never be able to purge that image from my mind." He paused and took a shaky breath. "You saw your friends get eaten alive. You sat by and watched them die. I don't blame you for wanting to forget, but drinking isn't the way to do it." He smiled half-heartedly. "I guess I should listen to my own advice. Well," he stood and stretched. "That's my two cents. See you in the morning." She watched him walk away, unsure of whether her plan had worked or not.

That night, Rema awoke in a cold sweat. She had dreamed of the arena yet again, but this time, it was different. Instead of watching Chirler, Metelle, and Metyse die from their dog bites, she watched Haymitch die three different times in three different ways. Terrified of the image, she exited her room and walked across the hall to Haymitch's room. She knocked lightly and seconds later, the door opened. Haymitch stood in front of her in a pair of loose pants, rubbing his eye groggily. Without speaking, he stepped aside, allowing Rema to enter his room. It was much messier than hers was, but it didn't bother her—he had made it his own. Both sides of his double bed were turned down, but only half looked as if it had been used. Haymitch got back into bed silently. When she didn't follow him, he moved the blankets on the other half of the bed as if to tell her to lie down. Rema obeyed and soon found herself snuggled into his chest with both his arms around her.

The days flew by quickly as the group made their way back to District 12. The tour took a total of twenty-three days, and Rema was excited to see how her mother was progressing. When they got off the train at the platform, though, Mayor Delin was the only one there to greet them. He wore a grim expression on his face, and when he asked to speak to Rema and Haymitch alone, Rema knew there was something wrong. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news," he began slowly, looking at Rema sympathetically. "She died yesterday. I'm sorry, Rema." He gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. "We're not having a banquet tonight so that you can get your mother's affairs in order. Just the speech." Rema nodded. "I really am sorry," Mayor Delin told her. "I have to go, I'll see you onstage." He walked off the platform to the Justice Building.

Haymitch's arm wrapped around Rema's shoulders and she turned into him, allowing herself to shed a few tears. Haymitch rubbed her back delicately. "Come on," he whispered, "let's go to the justice building." Rema nodded numbly.


	5. Chapter 5

Later that night, Rema sat in her kitchen alone, staring at the empty chair across the table. Her mother's knitting basket was still sitting beside it. She had never gotten the opportunity to open her shop. Rema rested her head on her arms. The house was so quiet without her mother; Rema didn't know how she was going to be able to stand it. When a loud knock came at the door, she jumped, not expecting anyone to visit her. It was Haymitch.

"You don't deserve to be alone," he said, letting himself in and sitting a bag on the kitchen table. He opened it and revealed a bottle of wine and a small box of chocolates. He had obviously just come back from the Hob. Handing her the box, he said, "This is the one time I will ever allow you to drink." He dug through her cupboards until her found two fluted glasses. Haymitch filled both and handed her one. "I'm sorry about your mom, Rem."

Rema took a small sip of the liquid. Finding that it tasted more like grapes than alcohol, she took another sip before answering Haymitch. "Thanks." She looked up from the dark red liquid in her glass. "What am I going to do without her?"

"What do you mean?" Haymitch grabbed one of the bottles with one hand, and with the other, grabbed Rema's hand and led her to the living room. They sat on the floor in front of the hearth, the red glow from the dancing flames reflecting in Haymitch's grey eyes. Rema offered him the box of chocolates, and he selected a spherical one that was drizzled in dark chocolate.

"It's so quiet," she told him. "It was quiet before, but now the silence is deafening." She popped a chocolate into her mouth. It was silky smooth, with a hint of nuttiness.

Rema watched Haymitch drain his glass. "I know how you feel," he replied softly. Immediately, Rema felt badly. Haymitch had suffered the same loss and more last year. He waited for Rema to finish her wine before pouring them both another glassful. "Cheers," he said jokingly, clicking their glasses together.

Once they finished their second glass, Haymitch took the bottle of wine and the two glasses back to the kitchen. When he came back, he drew Rema into his arms and held her close. She rested her head on his shoulder. Haymitch's hand gently rested on her back, moving in slow, lazy circles to both reduce her stress and soothe her nerves. Rema glanced at him through her eyelashes and he leaned down for what was meant to be a short kiss. It was delicate and sweet, but emotional. To Rema, it said more than he was upset that she was upset. It allowed Rema to see just how much Haymitch cared about her. They had kissed before, but nothing as delicate and emotional as this.

The sweet, tender kiss suddenly changed directions when Haymitch's hand moved from her back to her waist, where it travelled slightly up her shirt and rested on her hip. His teeth sank gently into her bottom lip, and while she was distracted, his tongue slipped behind her teeth to wrestle with her own. Rema's hands became tangled in Haymitch's hair as he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. His hand slid further up her side, pulling her shirt with it and causing her to shiver. Rema wasn't ticklish, but there was something about his touch that gave her chills.

They stood up together and broke apart, allowing Haymitch to slide her shirt over her head and to take his own off. Their lips crashed together again and the two slowly walked backwards, until Rema felt the couch cushions pressing against the backs of her legs. She allowed herself to fall backwards lightly, pulling Haymitch down with her.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Rema awoke to the sun shining brightly between the crack of the curtains. She wondered briefly why she had fallen asleep in her living room, but when she attempted to move, she was constrained. Haymitch's arm was wrapped tightly around her, keeping her both on the couch and close to him. Memories of the night before flooded into Rema's mind, causing her to groan softly. She had broken her parents' rule. Not exactly the part about disparity, but the rest of the rule. Mentally, she revised the rule: don't get pregnant, because pregnancy led to death. Rema moved an immediately was grateful, for she was wearing clothes.

Rema was only awake for a few minutes before Haymitch began to stir. She felt his arm tighten around her waist as he became conscious. "Good morning," he said groggily. "Sleep well?"

Rema chuckled lightly. "I would say like a dream, but seeing as most of my dreams these days are terrifying."

Haymitch laughed. "I take it that means you slept well?" Rema nodded and squirmed, attempting to get out of his grip. "What? You want up?"

"I'm hungry," she whined softly. "Sympathy, please." He chortled and released his grip, allowing her up. Rema scrambled out of the blanket that was covering them both and hopped into the kitchen. "Do you want anything?" she called into the living room as she looked through her cupboards, searching for something to eat.

"What are you making?" Haymitch leaned against the doorframe. The blanket was draped across his otherwise bare shoulders, keeping out the mid-April chill.

Rema came across a large loaf of bread and a jar of honey. "Apparently, toast and honey." Haymitch shrugged, showing that he didn't care if she made him any, and walked back into the living room. She made him a few slices and took them to him in the living room.

He took the plate and sat it on an end table before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her onto his lap. "Hey."

"Hey," Rema replied, turning slightly to look at him.

"So, that little stunt you pulled the other night, I give you credit. You got your point across," he whispered.

"Oh?"

"I've been thinking; if Ripper were to suddenly stop selling my alcohol, then I might not drink as much," Haymitch hinted.

Rema smiled. She knew what he was implying. He wouldn't drink if the alcohol was not accessible. "Promise?"

"Unless it's an extremely good reason," he responded. Rema kissed him lightly. "Rem?" Haymitch said tentatively. His tone was soft and unsure. Rema had never heard him speak like that.

"Yes, Haymitch?"

He kissed her lightly, pulling her closer. When they pulled apart, he wrapped her in a hug. "I love you," he whispered in her ear.

She smiled slightly and thought for a second. Did she love Haymitch? Of course, she did, but admitting it would put them both in danger of severe torture from the Capitol. Were her feelings worth the risk of putting Haymitch in danger? "I love you, too," she replied finally.

That night, Rema and Haymitch walked through the door of her house, returning from the Hob, when the phone rang. It took Rema a few seconds to find it, but when she did, she answered it. "Hello?"

"Hello, Rema Becksling?" a male voice replied.

"Speaking." Rema was confused.

"This is Labingi Porro. I work for the Capitol's Health and Wellness Bureau. It has come to our attention that you're a healer?"

"Somewhat, yes. Why?" She waved off Haymitch's concerned looks.

"The president has asked us to give you a job as a doctor in one of the districts. As of next month, you will be relocated to District 5. Once there you will be trained as a doctor. Do you have any questions?"

Rema was speechless. "No, no I don't think so," she managed.

"Very well. The train will pick you up the third Tuesday of next month. Have a lovely evening." With that, the man hung up.

Rema sat down her phone, her eyes wide. "What?" Haymitch asked, concerned.

"I… he's…" she stammered. "President Snow… he's making me move."

"What? To where?"

"District 5."

Immediately, horror crossed Haymitch's face. "He can't do that," he protested.

"I think he can. He's the president." Rema's voice was steady as the shock of the phone conversation was leaving her.

Haymitch sat down at the table and put his head in his hands. "When are you leaving?"

"Next month," she said softly, sitting down beside him. Haymitch sunk further onto the table. "I can't do anything about it, I'm sorry." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, we've got to make this the best month ever."

"You're right," he mumbled, head still on the table.

"Then get up," she told him.

"And do what?"

"I don't know. We could go for a nice, moonlit walk. Or we could go to sleep and plan things to do tomorrow. Or we could stay up all night discussing philosophy," she suggested.

Haymitch stood and pulled her up with him. "I actually think I'm going home. I need to process this. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Rema nodded. "Don't drink."

"I won't."


	7. Chapter 7

Three weeks passed, and Rema had not seen nor heard from Haymitch at all, which was strange, as she was leaving in a few days. She lounged on her couch, reading a book on District 5, when she heard a knock on her door. "It's open!" she called. People of District 12 were fairly docile and respectful, so when Rema heard the door open and shut, she presumed it was either a person from the Hob coming to talk to her about her relocation, or Mayor Delin, who was avidly allowing Rema to borrow books and other literature about District 5. Rema had not, however, been expecting Haymitch to walk into her living room. He looked scraggly, not from alcohol, but from lack of sleep and malnutrition. "What are you doing here?" she whispered, watching him on the couch at her feet.

"Nice to see you, too," he joked.

"You know what I meant. What's up?" she sat the book down on the floor beside the couch and sat up. He sat silently for a few seconds, broodingly staring at the floor near his feet. "Haymitch?"

"I haven't touched a bottle," he admitted, still staring at the floor. "I've wanted to, but I promised you; so I haven't. I keep thinking about how you're leaving and how we're probably never going to see each other again, and about how after you leave, you'll probably never even think of me."

"What? Haymitch, that's idiotic." She opened the locket Mr. Hibiscusing had given her before the Games. In both of the doors, there was a picture. One was a family portrait of her father, mother, and Rema. The other was a photo of Haymitch. "I won't forget you. At this point, I don't think that's even possible. You're too much a part of my life."

He smiled slightly. "I realize that now, but… I don't know. Here," he mumbled, handing her a small box. "I have to go. Atticus Everdeen wanted me to help him work on some traps."

"Be careful," Rema told him. Atticus Everdeen was obsessed with the woods outside of the district. Atticus hunted, which brought in a lot of Greasy Sae's meat for her dishes. "Don't go into the woods."

"We never do," he insisted, patting her knee. "I'll see you later, Rem."

"Okay." She watched as he stood and walked out the door. When she heard the kitchen door close, she looked down at the box. It was brown and made of a thick paper material. It was hinged, and Rema could tell it was a jeweler's box. Curiosity piqued, Rema opened the box cautiously. "Haymitch," she gasped, staring into the box. Sitting in jeweler's gauze was a twisted silver band, with two diamonds flanking a fire opal in the center. The lid of the box held a folded piece of paper. It read:

_Dear Rema,_

_I know that you won't be leaving me for another couple of days, but I feel like those few days will go by so quickly that we won't know what hit us. So I give this to you now in hopes that you won't think too terribly of me for it. I would like to stress that this means nothing more than a promise. I will never forget you, and I can only hope that you feel the same. I really do care about you Rema, and it pains me to know that we won't see each other again. I'll see you in another life._

_Haymitch_

"Oh, Mitch." Rema glanced down at the ring before slipping it onto her right ring finger. She stood, and with a resolute glance at the book on the floor, walked out of her house. She had to find Haymitch. After checking his house, Rema set out for the opposite side of the town—the Seam. It was a fifteen-minute jog to the poverty-stricken bundle of seemingly derelict houses. Rema located the Everdeen house easily, for it was the best kept and the closest to the woods. Atticus's mother was out front, tending the small spice garden the family kept.

When she saw Rema, the middle-aged woman smiled. "Looking for Atticus?" she asked, wiping her ruddy hands on her apron.

Rema nodded. "And Haymitch."

"Of course." She chuckled lightly, dropping her voice to a whisper. "They went to the Hob." It was no secret that the Hob existed, but those that did not frequent District 12's black market did not often care to speak of the illegal stores.

"I should've figured that. Thank you," Rema said politely, turning on her heel and leaving the woman to tend to her garden.

The Hob was bustling at this time in the afternoon. Being just before one o'clock, many of District 12's inhabitants were visiting Greasy Sae's counter for lunch. The large coal warehouse was packed, but Rema managed to squeeze through the crowd to the counter. She did not sit at the stools, but stood at the corner.

"They're in the back, Sweetie," Sae called, handing a bowl of rancid-looking broth to a man in coal minter's garb. At Rema's confused look, the woman smiled. "Told me to send you along if you came."

Rolling her eyes, Rema made her way away from the counter towards the back of the coal dust coated warehouse. Exiting the main room, Rema found Haymitch and Atticus working feverishly on a rusty snare. Rema watched them for a few minutes, imagining the wheels turning in the boys' heads as they attempted to cure the snare of its broken and rusty mechanics. As she leaned against the doorframe, a small cloud of coal dust attacked her nose, causing her to sneeze. The two boys started, and noticing Rema, Haymitch smiled sheepishly. Rema smiled and shook her head. "What?" he asked concerned. Silently, Rema held up her right hand. The three gems glittered in the dim light. He broke into a grin and walked forward, completely ignoring the confused looks Atticus was giving him. Haymitch drew Rema into a tight hug. "I know we have our disagreements, but I meant it," he whispered.

"Is it bad that I'm confused?" Atticus wondered aloud.

Haymitch laughed and kissed Rema lightly. "Go home. I'll be there when we're done here."


	8. Chapter 8

That night, Rema was again on her couch, reading the book Mayor Delin had lent her. On her way out of the Hob hours before, she had bought a small chicken from one of the vendors, and had breaded it for dinner. Haymitch had not arrived, so Rema had only made a small portion of the chicken. Just as Rema was taking the hot tray out of the oven, the door opened and Haymitch walked into the kitchen.

"Good evening." Rema smiled. "Just in time for dinner."

"I ate at the Hob," he replied sheepishly. "But thank you."

Rema turned around to shut the oven off. "You're welcome. So, what's with the random gift? I mean, I love it, don't get me wrong, but…" She turned around and was caught off guard when he was suddenly behind her. "But…" she stammered. Haymitch's lips crashed against hers and Rema gave up on forming coherent sentences.

They moved in unison, tongues warring erratically. Haymitch's hands came to rest lightly on Rema's hips, just under her shirt, while Rema's own were busy playing with his hair. They backed up slowly to the table, upon which, Rema hopped, allowing Haymitch to move closer, deepening the kiss. His hands slid further up her sides, pulling her shirt along with them. He broke their kiss long enough to pull the shirt over her head and toss it into the living room. Once the offending clothing was well away from them, Haymitch kissed Rema's jaw fervently, gradually making his way to her collarbone. He bit down delicately, causing Rema to sigh softly. His tongue brushed across the ministrations and Rema's fingers danced down his chest, gripping the hem of his shirt. They parted briefly and Rema ripped Haymitch's shirt over his head, throwing it into the living room, along with her own.

Haymitch's lips slowly made their way back up to Rema's, and he smiled into the kiss as he picked Rema up, her legs wrapping around his waist instinctively, fearing falling. She felt him laugh as he carried her through the living room and into her bedroom, where he put her on her feet. Haymitch went back to her collarbone while Rema played with the button on his pants tantalizingly. He groaned against her skin as she toyed with the hem. Deciding not to tantalize him anymore, she undid the button swiftly, allowing Haymitch to shimmy out of his pants. Not breaking their connection, Haymitch tugged on Rema's pants, which were considerably looser, and they came off easily. In the same nonchalant hand motion, he also unclasped her bra, sending it to the floor as well. Gently, Haymitch pushed Rema backwards until the back of her calves hit the side of the bed. She fell backwards, and Haymitch landed lightly on top of her, supporting his weight with one of his arms, while with the other, he slid Rema's underwear over her hips; she kicked them off and ran a hand enticingly over the waistband of Haymitch's own shorts.

"You're a tease," he spat, voice husky.

Rema shrugged and pushed the offending article far enough away that he could remove it. Haymitch moved slightly before intertwining their bodies. He waited for Rema to become accustomed before moving again, finding a pace quickly. A slight pressure began to build in Rema's abdomen and she felt weak as she kissed him. Haymitch's pace quickened and she sighed deeply, the pressure building. It continued to build until Rema was sure she was going to shatter. Haymitch's pace quickened even more and Rema gasped softly. "Mitch…" He silenced her with a lustful kiss.

The pressure in Rema's abdomen erupted violently, and she went tense, beginning to tremble. Haymitch grunted as he, too, hit the wall, and collapsed beside Rema, shaking gently. He stared at the ceiling blankly for a few seconds before allowing his head to loll over. The two made eye contact and Haymitch smiled crookedly. "I love you."

Rema kissed his nose lightly. "My dinner is cold," she whispered jokingly.

"Screw dinner, you're not hungry," he replied, wrapping an arm around her and drawing her close.

"Not at all," she mumbled, burrowing her face into his chest.

"Then sleep." His whisper was barely audible. "You've got a huge week ahead of you." He rubbed circles into her side gently as she fell asleep.

Rema's dreams that night were riddled with images that didn't relate to each other at all. The first few were of Chirler and Metyse, whose specters plagued her dreams more often than her other friends. They were bereaved and upset, but not because they were dead and Rema was alive. No, this dream was different. Chirler and Metyse were both wearing black. They were sitting at a long table. Beside Metyse was Chelmot, who looked perfectly healthy without the gaping hole in his abdomen. Rema's parents were also sitting at the mysterious table, along with Haymitch's mother, Ginger, and brother, Barberry. At the far end of the table, Rema could make out Haymitch, staring at his hands and looking completely lost. Except, Haymitch looked different. It wasn't just the black clothing, he was physically different. Rema guessed he had probably aged five years. Looking around, Rema realized that she was at the ceremonial District 12 funeral service. It was always a meal cooked by the loved ones of the deceased. So who had died? Turning as the scene changed slightly, she saw her parents, both in tears as they hugged a visibly grieving Haymitch. _My funeral_. Rema thought. _I'm at my own funeral. How?_ The scene changed drastically before she got the answer.

This time, Rema was back on the beach; the same beach that both starred in the best dreams she had, and some of the worst nightmares she had been afflicted with. She was standing, staring at the rolling waves. The air was light and gentle, and the sky was just beginning to turn the colors of the sunset. "Rema, come on!" an unfamiliar voice called from her left. Turning, she saw a relatively handsome man in his mid-twenties, with brown hair and deep blue eyes, holding a small child. Rema walked toward the man, who reached out his hand to her. She took it, and noticed the gold band around his finger. Rema wondered vaguely who he was married to before he leaned in to kiss her. _And now I'm married._ The scene changed abruptly just as the strange man's lips brushed against her own.

Haymitch was standing in front of her, but something seemed terribly off about him. Not only was he at least twenty years older, he looked much more haggard and worn. His hair had grown considerably, and he wore what looked to be a permanent scowl. Two teens stood beside him, one male, one female. The male was blond and stocky, with strong arms and a pleasant face. The girl was attractive, with dark hair and grey Seam eyes. She was leaner, but able-bodied. Haymitch was saying something to the two teens, but Rema couldn't hear what was being said. An older woman walked in the room; she was around the new Haymitch's age, with dark, wavy hair and blue-green eyes. Haymitch scowled at her, and she rolled her eyes. The two clearly did not get along. The scene changed slightly, and the older version of Haymitch was sitting on a chair in a bedroom somewhere when the older woman walked into the room. He stood and they hugged, throwing Rema off guard. He kissed the woman lightly and everything went dark.


	9. Chapter 9

Rema awoke the day of her departure anxiously. She had been dreading this day for weeks. She squirmed out from under Haymitch's tight grip and padded lightly across her bedroom, throwing open the curtains and letting the early morning sun come into the room. Haymitch grunted lightly and shot up, looking around frantically. He groaned and fell backwards, rubbing his forehead with the palms of his hands. "Good morning," he attempted, stretching.

"I wish. Bad dream?"

"Nothing worse than the one I'm living," he mumbled, throwing the blankets off and dangling his feet of the edge of the bed. "How'd you sleep?"

"Terribly." This had been the outline for the past four morning's conversations. "Want breakfast?"

"Yeah, but do you think we could eat at the Hob? I promised Greasy Sae she'd see you before you left."

Rema dreaded the vile stew served at the Hob, but she nodded, genuinely liking Sae and her ability to make something from virtually nothing. "Of course."

The two dressed quickly and walked out the door. Rema's possessions were already packed into cases sitting beside the front door. Haymitch intertwined their fingers as they walked, avoiding the subject of Rema's looming departure. The Hob was almost completely empty, that is, until they arrived at Greasy Sae's counter. It was packed with people both eating their breakfast and those who were addicted to the gossip that spread like wildfire through the Hob. Sae handed Haymitch two piping hot bowls of over-moist oatmeal before walking from behind the counter to hug Rema. "Gonna miss you, kid," she told her.

"Thanks, Sae, I'll miss you, too," Rema replied, hugging the cook.

"Eat up; you've got a big day ahead." Rema obeyed silently, dipping a spoon in one of the bowls. The mush wasn't bad, but Rema couldn't get over the texture, so she ended up giving half to a smaller and much weaker coal miner.

Once Haymitch had finished his breakfast, Rema said goodbye to Greasy Sae for the last time. The older woman looked distraught when she waved them away. Haymitch led Rema out of the Hob and they walked seemingly without a purpose. They entered the Seam and stopped in front of Haymitch's old house. He sighed and looked in one of the windows sadly. The interior was as Rema had seen it last—dusty and unkempt. "Mom would've never let it get like that," Haymitch whispered before turning finitely away. "Come on." He led her away from his childhood home. They walked further into the Seam, where, near the electrified fence, Haymitch began to climb a mottled tree. Rema followed and they sat on a sturdy branch almost at the top. They stared out at the town for a few minutes, and Rema let the memories of this spot flood into her brain. They had discovered this place when she and Haymitch were six. He had gotten into a fight at school with a kid that had made fun of Rema. It was always a place to comfort them both. When Rema had turned twelve, she and Haymitch had climbed the tree and contemplated being picked for the Games. They had sat in the tree for almost four hours discussing Haymitch's brother once, when Barberry had accidentally killed Rema's pet dog. They had also climbed the tree the day Rema had left for District 1; it was there that he promised her that they would always be friends, no matter where their paths led them.

"Whatever way our paths end, we're always going to have each other, okay?" Haymitch said, repeating what he had said almost five years ago. Rema nodded slightly and they fell silent. Before long, he was humming. Recognizing the song as one she had shown him from what she called 'The Lavender Garden Collection', she sang along softly.

_Without you, the ground thaws_

_The rain falls_

_The grass grows_

_Without you, the seeds root_

_The flowers bloom_

_The children play_

_The stars gleam_

_The poets dream_

_The eagles fly_

_Without you_

_The Earth turns_

_The sun burns_

_But I die, without you_

_Without you, the breeze warms_

_The girl smiles_

_The cloud moves_

_Without you, the tides change_

_The boys run_

_The oceans crash_

_The crowds roar _

_The days soar_

_The babies cry_

_Without you_

_The moon glows_

_The river flows_

_But I die without you_

_The world revives_

_Colors renew_

_But I know blue_

_Only blue_

_Lonely blue_

_Without you_

_Without you, the hand gropes_

_The ear hears_

_The pulse beats_

_Without you, the eyes gaze_

_The legs walk_

_The lungs breathe_

_The mind churns_

_The heart yearns_

_The tears dry without you_

_Life goes on_

_But I'm gone_

_'Cause I die, without you_

_Without you_

_Without you_

_Without you..._

Haymitch sighed heavily and looked at Rema. She could feel tears threatening to spill over her lashes. Rema didn't want to leave District 12; she actually enjoyed living there now. She felt a part of the community, and loved the character of the denizens. Rema knew she would miss this place. Haymitch wrapped an arm protectively around Rema's shoulder and she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.


	10. Chapter 10

Rema stared out the window as the scenery whizzed past. The train had departed only five minutes before, but already, she missed District 12. The final goodbye had been sad, with even Mayor Delin tearing up. He had given Rema his book on District 5 in hopes that she would find it useful. She clutched it now, attempting to hold on to the last shred of District 12 she had. It was a day's journey to District 5, so Rema decided to settle into her room, reading her book fervently. Even though Rema was to be trained as a doctor, she still felt it was important to know some things about the district she would now call home.

Rema fell asleep that night reading her book. She slept dreamlessly yet restlessly, and when she awoke the next morning at nine, she felt as if she hadn't slept at all. Rema showered quickly and went out to the living room, waiting arriving in District 5. One of the train attendants brought her breakfast and told her that District 5 was an hour away. In that hour, Rema finished Mayor Delin's book. They arrived in District 5 and Rema gathered her bags. Once off the train, she was greeted by a young girl. She was tall and lanky, with blonde hair, greenish-hazel eyes, and a pleasant smile. "Good morning!" she said cheerily, taking one of Rema's bags. "I'm McKenna Powe. Welcome to District 5!"

"Thanks, I'm Rema Becksling." Rema returned the girl's cheery smile.

McKenna led her off the train platform and onto the streets of the city. The multistory buildings were all made of brick and placed extremely close together. "I'll take you to your apartment. We're sharing one."

"Shouldn't I live in the Victor's Village?" Rema asked, following her down the street.

The blonde thought for a second. "No, I don't think so. I think once you leave the district you represented, your winnings become void. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Rema mumbled. What was Snow playing at by making her live with this girl?

They arrived at their home minutes later. It was identical to the houses on the main street, but slightly dingier. The steps leading to the front door were cracking and the paint on the door itself was peeling. McKenna unlocked the door and gave Rema a tour of the building. Upon entering, there was a small entry hallway and stairs to the right, which led up to the other floors; to the left was a large living room furnished with a plaid couch, two chairs, and a television that was mounted on the wall. Back the hallway was a medium-sized kitchen and a laundry room, as well as a dining room and a closet. A door off the kitchen led outside to a wooden porch and a small backyard. The second floor contained two bedrooms, a large closet, and a bathroom. Rema sat her bags in the unclaimed bedroom before following McKenna up a second flight of stairs to the roof. Once on the roof, Rema got her first look at all of District 5. It was larger than District 12, with many power plants dotting the horizon. A white cross illuminated a large building at the center of the district; the hospital was the largest building aside from the plants. The roof held a few planters full of dirt and dead plants, two chairs and a small table.

"Do you like the house?" McKenna asked when they were on the first floor again.

"It's nice, I guess. It's bigger than the houses in District 12."

"I guess they would be. District 5 has a higher standard of living." Her tone was factual rather than offensive. Rema nodded. "Do you have any pictures you would like to hang on the walls?" McKenna gestured to the nearly blank walls of the living room.

"Not really. I didn't bring many pictures." Rema's hand drifted absent-mindedly to her locket. "And I think I'll put them in my room."

McKenna nodded. "That's fine. I'll leave you to unpack now. If you need help, let me know."

"Thanks." Rema trotted up the stairs easily and entered her bedroom. It was medium-sized, with a bed on one wall and a dresser on the opposite wall. The window had a large sill and a few shelves beside it for books. Rema emptied her bags into the dresser, organizing the contents into the four drawers. The few tchotchkes she had brought, she sat on the shelves and her dresser. She sat a picture of she, her father, mother, and Haymitch on the shelf so that it could be seen from anywhere on the bed.

Unpacking took about an hour and a half, and when she was done, Rema walked downstairs, where McKenna was sitting in the living room, browsing through a book on diseases. "You're a doctor?" Rema asked the girl curiously.

"No, not yet. That's why we're living together. We're going through the same Capitol mandated program." McKenna sat down her book. "Would you like to go out for lunch?"

"Sure. You're not from District 5?" Rema thought she was the only one President Snow had forced to move.

"No. I'm originally from District 3." McKenna led Rema out the door. "Would you like to stop at the institute? They want us to get our books early."

Rema shrugged. "Why not? It's not like we have anything else to do today."

McKenna chuckled. "True." About a half-hour later, they arrived at a large brick building beside the hospital. They walked in and a dark complexioned receptionist greeted them. McKenna gave her their names and the receptionist handed them two stacks of six novel-sized books in a paper bag and a packet of homework, as well as their class times and schedules. McKenna and Rema then left, choosing a restaurant near the institute. It served only soup, and immediately, Rema thought of Greasy Sae. McKenna ordered a bowl of chestnut soup, and Rema recognized it as the stuff they had served the first day of training for the Games. Rema had given her bowl to Chirler.

"Can I ask you a dumb question?" McKenna asked as the two sat down at a table.

"Go for it," Rema replied, experimentally tasting her rabbit soup.

"What were the Games like? I mean, I know they were horrible and demoralizing, but…" she trailed off.

Rema was silent for a few minutes. "They were terrifying. I went to sleep every night thinking that I wouldn't wake up and I woke up thinking that I wouldn't be alive to sleep the next night. I watched my friends slowly die around me and there was nothing I could do about it." McKenna nodded, allowing Rema to collect her thoughts and continue. "Every hour was a living nightmare that will haunt me until the day that I die. I wouldn't wish the Games on my worst enemy," she concluded in a whisper.

McKenna nodded slowly. "I'm sorry I asked, then."

"No, it's fine." Rema shrugged. "I don't mind."

They finished their soup and took their books home, where Rema and McKenna sat in the living room, beginning to read their books. They began with one entitled _Old World Diseases_. At chapter four, Rema gave up and bookmarked the page. She wandered up to her room, where she pulled out the book Mayor Delin had given her. Rema had finished it, but she opened it up anyway, and read the inscription on the inside cover.

_ I hope you find this useful in your future endeavors. Remember the people of District 12 will be __with you in all that you do. Good luck! –Mayor Delin_

Rema stared at the writing for a few minutes, silently wishing she were home with her people. Most of all, though, she wished she was back with Haymitch.

**AN (as of 3/28/12): Hey, guys! I've been so busy writing the final installment of this series lately that I've been neglecting my other creative ideas. Therefore, to satisfy myself as well as my readers, I've posted a poll on my profile as to what HG character/oc I should do next. I'd appreciate your input!**


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